24 Candles
by ADeclanFan
Summary: Helen takes a moment to reflect and honor her daughter's memory. Very sad. You have been warned.


24 Candles

In the chapel, Helen set out a candle for each year she and Ashley shared in the Sanctuary. One flame per year, to symbolize all the joy and the pain, the tears and the blood; everything her child had meant to her. The fat white candles were spaced evenly around the stone rectangle of the tomb's lid. When Helen found herself back at the start, she took a taper and struck a match.

The first candle she lit was for Ashley's birth. The hours of labor, delivery and the magical moment the nurse laid her tiny body in Helen's waiting arms. The first cry, and the first time the tiny mouth rooted hungrily at her breast. Ashley's triumphant first meal that ended in a long lazy nap for everyone involved.

The second candle was for the first steps and the first word, "Dada." The irony sent Helen into tears for nearly an hour.

The third candle was for the time first she had to chase a toddler through the grocery store. The first battle of wills started by the newly discovered word, "no". AS much as Helen loved children in general and Ashley in particular, the twos could indeed be terrible.

The fourth candle was their first conversation; big person to small person. There had been snow on the ground; Helen had patiently explained snow and why it was necessary to wear hats and gloves and boots. Ashley had listened to it all, and stated, "It looks like ice. I like to eat ice. Let's go eat the ice, Mommy." After she ate a little clean snow, Helen taught her how to throw snowballs and make snow angels. It dawned on her that Ashley wasn't a baby any longer, she was a big girl capable of expressing herself.

The fifth candle reminded Helen of Ashley's first broken bone – her index finger was caught in a closing door. And her first friend, a stuffed elephant she took everywhere with her. Helen saved what was left of it; Ashley had literally loved it to pieces before she outgrew it.

The sixth candle was hard. It marked Ashley's first day of kindergarten. The first time Helen had to put her tiny, trusting child into the hands of someone she didn't know and walk away from her. She wasn't the only mom wiping her eyes in the parking lot that day. It got easier, though.

The seventh candle was full of joyful adventures: her first sleepover at a friend's house, her first school Christmas pageant, when she'd been dressed proudly as a snowflake.

The eighth candle heralded Ashley's first fight at school and first detention. She'd defended a classmate from a bully and was got caught and punished instead of the bully. Helen had to explain that life wasn't always fair. And sometimes people were just mean. This was the year Ashley asked about her father for the first time. Other kids had a mom and a dad, so why didn't she? Helen told her her father was dead, because for all Helen knew, he was. She hadn't seen him in decades and neither had James.

The ninth candle brought more broken bones; an arm and an ankle this time. Ashley loved her bicycle and roller-blades, though it took time for her to gain enough coordination to master them. Thank God for helmets and knee and elbow pads.

The tenth candle made Helen laugh out loud, remembering all the things nine year olds heard from other nine year olds and didn't understand. Helen made a point of sitting Ashley down and telling her that she could ask any questions she wanted, and Helen would answer honestly. The first question was if Santa Claus was real, and then she went to school the next day and told everyone that Santa wasn't real because her mom was a famous doctor who knew everyone and she would have met him, if Santa was real.

The eleventh candle brought Ashley's first crush on a boy in her class, complete with all the angst and drama a preteen girl could possibly create. Ashley's penchant for screaming and door slamming sent people running for cover often during that phase.

The twelfth candle was notable for 'the talk', the one about puberty. One of Ashley's classmates started her menses during gym class and caused a classroom panic. Magnus explained that no the girl wasn't going to die, that it was in fact a positive sign that her classmate was growing up just as she should. Ashley's first period came and went without any drama, at least until the premenstrual syndrome started.

The thirteenth candle was blissfully uneventful. Nothing to note but Ashley's first training bra, and some disagreements on the respectability of girls who wore outfits that didn't cover enough to even be considered clothing. For her birthday, Helen gave her neutral tone eyeshadow and tinted lip-gloss.

The fourteenth candle... Oh Heavens. The start of the teenage years. Her mantra became, "It's only seven years. It's only seven years." Seven very long, trying years to be precise. Ashley had a stubborn streak like her mother and an icy temper like her father, but never once in all the ups and downs did Magnus regret having her. In fact, she wondered why she'd waited so long.

The fifteenth candle was Ashley's year to shine. She was the youngest cheerleader on the varsity squad and sophomore class president. People were calling the Sanctuary day and night to talk to her. It was nice to see her successful and happy.

As good as the fifteenth candle was, the sixteenth candle was even better. Ashley was on top of the world. They had a great time together teaching Ashley to drive, and letting her assist here and there with the more docile creatures Helen cared for. They bonded as mother and daughter. Life was good. Even the talks about contraception and other touchy sexuality issues went fairly well. As a doctor, Helen was comfortable discussing things that made Ashley blush and flee the room.

The seventeenth candle brought Ashley's world crashing down, quite literally, when she broke her femur in a snow skiing accident in Aspen. She was forced to spend two months in bed after the surgery, and her so called best friends moved on without her. Her boyfriend started dating her best friend and didn't have the courage to admit it. Ashley's heart was well and truly broken. The nights of listening to Ashley cry herself to sleep nearly broke Helen. It was a hard lesson to watch someone learn. Ashley guarded her heart from then on, and Helen couldn't say she blamed her. More often than not, Helen found great loves also brought great heartbreaks.

The eighteenth candle was as Henry liked to called it, "The Great Ashley Rebellion." If Helen said black, Ashley was determined it was white. They butted heads so often Helen sent her to James for the summer after high school graduation, then called her every night because she missed her so much. Sheltered Ashley came home with some bad habits, like cigarettes and a taste for anything with tequila in it.

The nineteenth candle heralded the end of the war of the Magnus'. They came to an uneasy truce, helped a bit by Ashley's sincere desire to forgo college, after trying a semester of coursework, in favor of learning about the inner workings of the Sanctuary. She traveled to half a dozen Sanctuaries; learned to appreciate the mission and diverse creatures her mother was sworn to protect. It wasn't long before she wanted to join up. Helen was pleased and terrified in turns.

By the twentieth candle, Ashley was well on her way to becoming Helen's friend as well as her daughter. That was not to say they didn't disagree, often they did and quite vocally, but they were a team and could meet any challenge head on. Ashley discovered her strengths and worked hard at overcoming her weaknesses. Helen surprised her at Christmas with a motorcycle of her own, and Ashley had tears in her eyes. She continued to travel and took an occasional mission on her own, getting her feet wet on easy stuff.

The twenty-first candle marked Ashley's graduation to full fledged solo missions. She was now an experienced world traveler and could handle herself in anything from a gunfight to a bar brawl in a foreign country. There was only one or two times Magnus had to bail her out, but overall she was an asset to the Sanctuary network and got on well with everyone. There were a few minor love affairs with men Ashley met through work, but none showed any promise of becoming a partner for her. Helen's disapproval was a sure way of encouraging Ashley to call the guy back, so Helen learned to bite her tongue on the subject of Ashley's choices in men.

The twenty-second candle... Helen would never forget Ashley's first kill. It was heart wrenching to see her child's naivete slip away, replaced by a cool, lethal facade. This was the year she started to see John in their daughter. It had always been easy to see herself in Ashley, the curiosity and compassion, a need to know how things worked and why. The things John gave her were elusive and far more terrifying.

The twenty third candle heralded the arrival of Will into their home. It was the only time Helen made it clear from the start Ashley was to leave him be and let him do his work without a flirtatious twenty-something teasing and tormenting him. The miracle of miracles was that she listened and kept her relationship with Will friendly, but professional. The arrival of John sent their relationship into a downward spiral from which it never really recovered. Another regret on a list that spanned decade after decade.

Helen reached the last candle and thought of the hopes and dreams she'd had for Ashley. All the places they planned to go, things she'd hoped Ashley would do. Even after more than a hundred years of separation from the events, Helen could still see Ashley's face in those final moments, hear her cry out and see the determined look on her face when she made the conscious choice to give her life to protect Helen from the Cabal's killer. It was a terrible sacrifice and Helen should never have let her make it. Ashley traded everything for Helen's life, though she had already lived more than her share. Life was unfair, but death was even more so.

No more chances of falling in love, planning a wedding, walking down the aisle and taking the arm of the man who would make her truly happy, baby showers, anniversaries and birthdays and holiday outings. Helen would never hold a newborn grandchild in her arms. No amount of revenge could bring back what she lost when the Cabal snuffed out the twenty-fourth candle before it even had time to really burn.

Helen stepped back from the empty tomb and its decoration; took in the light each candle added to the whole. So bright, almost blinding in their combined intensity and a fitting tribute to the brightest light to ever come into Helen's long life. Helen refused to snuff the candles, chose instead to let them burn down on their own and become a part of the conflagration that would take the entire Sanctuary soon enough.

With a final last look, Helen turned and walked away. The light Ashley created would never leave her.


End file.
